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Review:
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
Two wedding Crashers was a weird book for me. I don't mean that in a bad way. It was a mix of feelings and emotions. It was a roller coaster and I would gladly take a ride again. The story was funny, a little annoying and sad. Meghan Quinn is a new author to me practically and I loved her work in this book. I will read more of her books because this one was everything I needed. It made me feel. The tone of the book is light in the first two parts, but the last part is filled with the heavy stuff. It wasn't bad. For me, we just dove deeper into the lives of the characters and it made me understand them better.
Beck is book husband material. I loved him and how persistent he was. He was always trying to convince Rylee to take the next step even when she was very reluctant. Rylee's resistance was a little annoying, to be honest. She is one of the most stubborn people I know and even that couldn't make me dislike the book. She acted like a jerk to her friend though and that is not easy to forgive. If you ask me you have to read the book. I loved it. It was refreshing to me and I felt like I was reading something new after a long time. I want to see Rylee's friends get their own books. They were funny and kind and they were great friends, so I hope we will see more of them.
Beck is book husband material. I loved him and how persistent he was. He was always trying to convince Rylee to take the next step even when she was very reluctant. Rylee's resistance was a little annoying, to be honest. She is one of the most stubborn people I know and even that couldn't make me dislike the book. She acted like a jerk to her friend though and that is not easy to forgive. If you ask me you have to read the book. I loved it. It was refreshing to me and I felt like I was reading something new after a long time. I want to see Rylee's friends get their own books. They were funny and kind and they were great friends, so I hope we will see more of them.
Chills scream their way down my arms and legs, my nipples pucker, and just like that, with one word, all humor vanishes from our little conversation and awareness of this all-consuming man wrapped around me hits me hard. Gathering myself, I say, “Tell me something Chris and Justine know about you.” “Hmm.” His thumbs hook under the waistband of my shorts, playing with the lower part of my hipbones. His touch spurs on my pelvis, needing to rock, begging for him to go lower. My toes curl in my sandals and my back slightly arches, reaching for more. “Something they know about me.” His mouth doesn’t stray from its position against my ear, and his hips start to slowly move underneath me, his legs tangling with mine. Involuntarily, one of my hands hooks the back of his neck as I hold on tightly to him, feeling like I need support from the onslaught of sensation I’m feeling. I hear him say something, but it doesn’t register in my brain, which has turned to mush as his thumbs stray from my hipbones to right above my pubic bone. There is no denying how turned on I am, how wet I am from his mere touch, how much—despite my reservations—I want this man. With each stroke, my head turns farther and farther to the side until our noses are touching, Beck’s head bends forward to meet me halfway. My eyes flutter shut for a brief moment before I open them and am captured by those flecks of green and gold. The air stills around us, our breath mixing, swirling between us, our lips so close. One swipe of this thumb. Another one. I can’t breathe. I can’t focus. Another swipe, my head leans even closer, my tongue wetting my lips. One more swipe . . . My heart hammers in my chest, my skin prickling with awareness. Beck brings his mouth even closer, only a whisper away now, and he waits. Holding still. His breathing feeling erratic beneath me. One. More. Swipe. And I’m gone. I bring my mouth to his, slowly parting my lips ever so slightly, just enough to maneuver my mouth across his. A low, provocative moan escapes Beck as one of his hands snags the back of my head and holds me in place, almost as if he lets go, I’ll disappear. Needing more, I shift on his lap so I’m straddling him once again, my hands on his bare chest, feeling the powerful sinew that holds him together. Our lips press and mold, mingling, taking, begging . . . Desperate. Beck’s tongue runs against my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep within me, lighting a fire so hot, so wild, my hands start to travel up his neck to his cheeks where I grip him, positioning his head so when I open my mouth, I can expertly dive my tongue onto his. He groans, his lap shifting against mine now, his hard-on pressing against my wet and throbbing center. I match his rocking, using my position on his lap to take advantage of his length I can feel through his board shorts. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen, but God, am I happy it has. Maybe I really should live in the moment, maybe I should take advantage of the opportunity, maybe I should…
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